Chapter 187
It was hard to tell how much time had passed.
At the long dining table in the great hall, the old patriarch of the Angel Faction had already prepared a feast for Finn and the others.
This time was different from the last. The table was piled with far more food, and the scent that filled the air was overwhelming, almost intoxicating. A thick aroma coated the entire hall, enough to make anyone's stomach rumble involuntarily.
"Old patriarch, you really didn't have to go this far. We can't even finish all this," Finn said, casting a bewildered glance across the table.
For someone like him, these kinds of material things were trivial. What really mattered was the lingering anger in his heart—the rage that burned toward the demon invaders, like a splinter under the skin.
The old patriarch waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense. This is nothing. What matters is that you enjoy yourselves. You've done so much for our Angel Faction. It weighs heavily on my heart if I don't express our gratitude."
He was sincere. Without the intervention of Finn and his group, the Angel Faction might have already been wiped out by the demonic forces. Their sanctuary would've been reduced to ashes.
For the old patriarch, this wasn't just hospitality—it was a necessary gesture of thanks.
"All right," Finn relented with a small nod. "Since you insist, I'll accept."
"Come on, let's see how everything turned out," the old patriarch said, eyes gleaming with hope.
The dishes might not have been exotic by cosmic standards, but to the inhabitants of this dimension, they were delicacies. The old man hoped that the guests from beyond would appreciate the effort.